Now, it was a waiting game. They usually responded within thirty minutes, but sometimes it took longer. The battery was running low, but he continued to wait. He’d recharge it later and send the digital pictures, but right now he wanted a response from Mount Weather.
He wanted direction from them. Most importantly, he wanted them to tell him to pack up, they were coming to get him.
Chapter 5 – Let’s Talk About Murder
It was well after dark when Liam and Logan arrived at the front gate. They had plans of raiding the kitchen before getting a hot shower and then perhaps some sexy time with their respective girlfriends before sleep, but the guards at the main gate thwarted those plans by making prompt notification of their return to the TOC. Within minutes an emergency meeting was ordered, and the two men were gathered up and escorted to the main conference room. Vice President Gil VanAllen was sitting at the head of the conference table, the chair normally reserved for the President of the United States.
It was an oddly interesting story of how Gilbert VanAllen came to be sitting in that chair. It started back in college. He was a typical college kid; a laid-back, fun-loving guy who leaned toward the liberal side of politics. He was at an after-football keg party and found himself discussing politics with a pretty, bouncy-bottom cheerleader. Her name was Rochelle, and her political beliefs were far more to the left. As she frequently liked to brag, Karl Marx was a pussy compared to her.
They fell in love and eloped in Las Vegas on graduation night. Gil was enamored with his beautiful young wife. Rochelle had a differing view of life and set down rules from the beginning. One of those rules was Gil could not expect her, a modern independent woman, to be monogamous. Gil did not like it but agreed.
Upon graduation Gil landed a job at an investment firm. Rochelle was accepted to the Scalia law school at George Mason University but was kicked out halfway through her first year for an undisclosed misconduct violation. She told Gil it was a contrived act of vindictiveness from a dean whose advances she had spurned.
That was their life for the next three years. Gil fit in nicely with his peers and was even promoted ahead of schedule. On the other hand, Rochelle had a succession of jobs and affairs.
One dreary November morning, Rochelle and Gil were watching the morning news over breakfast. There was a live feed of a panicked journalist watching the infected attacking other people.
“Oh my God,” Gil muttered.
The two of them sat in stunned silence, transfixed on the live feed for several minutes. Eventually, Rochelle quietly stood and walked into their bedroom. She moved quickly, packing two suitcases and a shoulder bag with what she felt were the most important items. She then went into the restroom and applied fresh makeup. Gil was still staring at the TV screen in a hypnotic trance and either did not notice her walk out or did not care.
She ignored the speed limit and hurried to Peter’s condo. Peter was her latest lover. He was a handsome, rugged kind of guy who liked tequila and Rochelle’s proclivity for kinky sex. Peter was also an avid outdoorsman who had a hunting cabin near Seneca Caverns. Rochelle had spent more than one weekend there.
She worked out all the details in her head as she drove. She decided the two of them would ride out this storm together and smiled at the thought of the many romantic nights they would have, safely tucked away in his cabin. She followed a car through the security gate of Peter’s condominium complex and parked next to his truck, which she noticed was already packed. She nodded in satisfaction. Unlike Gil, Peter was a man of action. She got out of her car as Peter emerged from his condo.
But he wasn’t alone. A young, trim, blonde bombshell was walking with him. When she got out of her car, Peter was momentarily surprised.
“What are you doing here?” he had asked.
The blonde stopped with him. She was standing so close, one of her oversized breasts was pushed up against his arm and threatening to burst through her tight jersey. Rochelle’s mouth went dry.
“What’s going on?” she managed to ask.
Peter’s expression was that of puzzlement. The blonde giggled and whispered something into Peter’s ear, causing him to smirk.
“What are you doing, Peter?” Rochelle asked.
“Listen, I don’t know why you’re here or what you’re expecting, but my friend and I are about to leave.”
“Take me with you,” Rochelle found herself saying. “Please.”
Peter shook his head. “Two’s company, three’s a pain in the ass. Best of luck to you.”
Rochelle’s momentary confusion disappeared. It was a grim epiphany; she was out, the pert young blonde was in. Peter saw her expression and chuckled.
“Aw, baby, don’t be glum; you’ve always got your husband,” Peter said.
Rochelle responded by reaching into her shoulder bag and coming out with a revolver. The same revolver that Peter had given to her as a birthday present. She shot him twice in the groin. The blonde screamed and tried to run but Rochelle shot her in the back. She then calmly shot Peter in the head as he lay writhing on the ground and then did the same to the girl.
She tossed her suitcases in Peter’s truck and drove it back to her residence. Gil was still watching the same newsfeed. Rochelle noticed he had opened a second bottle of wine. He barely glanced at her when she walked inside.
“Gil, we
